


The Lost Promise

by SnowLili



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: F/M, Forgotten Promises, Sexual References, different lifetime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26404813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowLili/pseuds/SnowLili
Summary: It was a boy meets a girl and fell in love kinda story, just to be ripped apart in the most brutal way, sucked into the lifestream. But lifestream recycles energy, reborn—and they meet again at the point where they lost each other. And perhaps they’ll go through a thousand lifetimes just to find each other again.
Relationships: Zack Fair & Aerith Gainsborough, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Reborn and Remeet

Zack loves women. Well, he never really dated seriously in the span of 22 years of his life, but he loves them. In this age where people are constantly questioning their own sexuality—Kunsel is not an exceptional to that—Zack is pretty damn sure he is straight, simply because being around hundreds of men half naked—or sometimes stark naked—in infantry school doesn’t seem to bother him the slightest. That includes the years in his high school where the ones who constantly caught his eyes seemed to be creatures with impressive mounds on chest or the gap between long legs. Can’t help it. He’s a stereotypical man.

Still, it doesn’t answer the question about the ineffable, unremitting attraction he feels towards a certain brunette around the corner of the Vintage Wings. The antique shop is empty. Not many usually takes interest in stuff like these but he usually visits during his break to survey one or two of the precious weapon collectibles. Which makes it even more difficult to apprehend the reason why she’s here in the first place. Is she also interested in weapons? That somehow makes her even more badass and interesting.

She’s beautiful. Or better yet, radiant. Like an angel. Which is far different than the adjectives he usually used for attractive, sexy women. Her palish white skin looks soft and smooth. The tresses of her brownish hair is braided down her back, reaching her waist. Her bangs frame her heart-shaped face and her lips are just the nice shape of young leaves—not too thin, not too thick. Her eyes are a pair of mesmerising emerald green and Zack wishes he could stare at them all day. She reminds him of angel in heaven. Not that he ever met one.

She has a rather average curves, not exactly thin, not exactly chubby either. And under her conservative below-knee long pastel blue skirt, Zack is sure she’s not exactly tall, perhaps just around 5 foot 3 inches. Granted, she might not be the usual type of girl he goes for. But she’s mesmerising in ways Zack couldn’t explain. It’s instant. It’s perennial. And that doesn’t make sense at all.

“Hey, Zack. Earth to Zack.”

The voice of the owner of the Vintage Wings—who happens to be right opposite of him behind the counter—robs his attention back to the present. Right, earth to him. He’s still on earth, not anywhere in heaven and she definitely isn’t an angel. He looks down on the antique Cossack Silver Dagger in his hand. It has a beautiful black mixture of copper, silver and lead sulphides used as an inlay on etched metal. The back of the sheath and handle has some dents from use. And some old stubborn dirt and rust on the blade is still visible only to add its value. But it’s still very handsome. Zack could tell it is very well taken care of.

His eyes steal another glance towards the nameless brunette. Damn, he needs to get her name like his next breath.

“She’s beautiful, Moretti,” he compliments, making sure she’s still there from the corner of his eyes.

“No kidding. It belonged to a soldier from Deepground, taken during the Omega war. You know, during the Meteor spell incident in 0011,” Moretti’s excitement is almost palpable, reminding Zack of why exactly this guy owns Vintage Wings, and the fact that they’re undoubtedly talking about weapons.

“Deepground soldier, yes,” Zack nods, trying to mask the fact that he wasn’t paying that much attention. Zack loves the history of Midgar. Or the history of Gaia for that matter. It’s what makes him interested in weapons in the first place. Every single weapon as huge as a buster sword or as minute as a dagger brings along thousand unsaid words from the entire complicated history that shaped the current Gaia, or the current Midgar where he is currently standing. But how can he concentrate when an angel—figuratively—is standing just a few steps away from him?

“Hey, Moretti, just one question,” Zack finally relents to his whims. “Is that girl new? Never seen her around,” he gestures briefly with his chin.

Moretti’s eyes flicks briefly towards her before realisation hits him. “Aerith? Don’t be silly, Zack. She’s a sweetheart. You can’t go breaking a sweetheart like her!”

Zack grimaces. “Who says anything about breaking? I’m just curious because I’ve never seen her before!”

Somehow, it irritates Zack that people assume he is a resident playboy who goes around breaking women’s hearts. He loves women. Just because he’s being flirty and friendly with them doesn’t mean he treats them like trash.

“Considering you have an accent yourself, that’s rich of you to assume I’m not from here,” the girl—whom apparently named Aerith—says, not looking away from the item in her hand. Zack unconsciously takes a step back when he realises she somehow overheard them. How much? He’s not even sure. Aerith seems to notice his movement when she finally turns to look at him with a playful wink. “You’re way too loud considering it’s in public.”

Something warms his heart at her words and expression. Her playfulness is unexpectedly familiar. Perhaps because she mirrors his own.

“Can’t blame us. We’re usually alone here,” Zack shrugs, even though Moretti doesn’t look pleased with it. “Not everyday we get the pleasure of company from a beautiful maiden like you, angel.”

“The name’s Aerith,” she cuts in, but Zack notices the tinge of blush dusting her cheeks she so desperately tries to fight down. “Aerith Gainsborough.”

“Zack Fair,” he grins, leaning leisurely against the counter, twirling the Cossack dagger in his hand. “So you happen to visit this shop in search of weapons?”

“Materia to be precise,” she finally faces him, looking all comfortable as hell that makes funny things in his chest. She’s far more beautiful than he initially thought.

“It’s very rare that anyone is interested in Materia at this age. We moved away from Mako energy centuries ago since humans started to rebuild the civilisation,” Zack raises his brows in amusement.

Aerith lets out a soft chuckle before shaking her head. “Don’t you think it doesn’t make sense to abandon it when it’s actually the thing that connects nature to the Lifestream?”

Zack’s smile is soft as he turns to Moretti, placing his credit card on the counter as he taps the Cossack dagger into his palm. “I’ll take this one, Moretti.” He ignores the fact that his words could easily have double meanings.

Moretti snatches the card to process the payment happily, all the while nodding towards Aerith’s direction. “Aerith, if he buys things on impulse each time he sees you, I’d have arranged you two to come together sooner.”

Zack rolls his eyes but slips the dagger into his jacket anyway. It’s not on impulse. He wanted the dagger for so long after all, he literally saved money for it. But of course, Moretti doesn’t have to know that. As he takes his card back once Moretti is done with the transaction, he so calmly approaches Aerith as if he owns the place. “So, are you buying that or are you finally free?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll be free,” Aerith lifts an eyebrow in attempt to intimidate him. But by the way he grins wider, it’s pretty clear it doesn’t work on him. Or maybe she didn’t try enough.

“Admit it,” Zack nudges her shoulder softly. “If you’re from Midgar and we’ve never met, it shows you rarely come to Mythril Market. And if you took your time going somewhere you rarely go, it is most likely you didn’t have anything else planned because you allocate the day for this trip. Maybe going home after lunch, which if that’s the case, I’m all about taking you to one.”

It’s almost uncanny how accurate his predictions are. He’s right that she rarely comes up to Mythril Market. It’s quite a journey way up north from her house in Sector 5, and clearly she didn’t have anything planned for the entire day once she’s done updating the stuff in Vintage Wings. “Uhuh,” the tip of her lips quirks slightly. “I didn’t know it’s a habit of the residents of Mythril Market to be picking up random dates.”

“Actually, I’m from Central District but I’ll take it as long as you’ll let me take you somewhere,” Zack slips his card back into his wallet and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Central District. That’s not exactly too far from her house. “One date,” Aerith nods, mustering the bits of confidence she still has amidst the erratic beats of her heart.

* * *

They had lunch in East Park, taking their time before transitioning to another train line. There are still constructions everywhere, considering they’re still developing after almost being destroyed more than 500 years ago, or so history said. Midgar is filled with green trees, patches of raked up moss, rivers and rocky beach that it’s rather hard for Zack to imagine the life Midgar once had. Still, even if it’s just a legend, Zack loves the budding developing city even if it’s no longer a capital. They’re walking out of the Sector 5 Downtown station that evening when Zack turns and walks backwards to observe the girl. He had been watching her every chances he got since they left Vintage Wings, and he doesn’t even bother to be discreet.

“For some reason, I think you’ll look pretty in pink,” he mutters, causing goosebumps all over her. “You have this soft pinkish undertone on your skin.”

She likes him. He’s funny, easygoing and kind. It’s not even that hard to notice those about him. He tends to treat people who are not her on the same pedestal as hers along their journey home. Him helping an old guy to carry his crates into his house. Him giving his seat to a pregnant lady who just entered the carriage as if it’s just his reflex. Him buying cotton candies for a kid whom discreetly eying the stall. All the unconscious efforts and small stops during their date that makes her think he is an absolute gentleman.

“Zack, this is our first date.”

Zack shrugs, turning back and taking her hand to gently help her jump over a drain. “First out of many. Tell you what, why don’t you wear pink the next time we meet? I bet you’ll look lovely in it.”

“I don’t have a pink dress,” she muses, trying to remember if she ever had.

“Then how about I buy you one?” he reasons, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, not ready to let her go yet.

She shakes her head with a small smile on her face, steps halting which pulls him into a stop with their joint hands. “Actually, we’re here.” She motions to the house by the street.

He gives the building a once over. It’s quaint, and homey. It reminds him of his own house in Gongaga. Of course, it lacks the amiable neighbourhood, but it looks comfortable and warm to live in. “I can already tell you’re loved.”

Aerith laughs. “Zack, you can’t tell me you’re not loved. That’s almost impossible.”

She expects him to boast and get all full of himself like he does through the few hours span they’ve spent together, but he’s quiet. She notices that he’s looking at a point at the front of her house, and as she follows his eyes, they drop on the bunch of flowers she grew in their small garden.

The yellow lilies.

“Do you believe in fate, Aerith?”

She looks up to him, just to see that his eyes are still fixated on the flowers. He’s almost a foot taller than her, towering six foot two inches that makes her just reaching his shoulders. His sky blue eyes are deep, his muscles are firm and hard. But none of those features scare her off the slightest. Which is unusual because she was never too fond of soldiers like him.

“Do you?”

His fingers weave through hers before his eyes finally tear away to land on hers. “I used to not believe in it. But now I do. Because this,” he squeezes her hand for emphasis. “This feels as if we are destined together. As if we’ve been together many times. As if we’ve loved each other fiercely. It’s familiar and perennial to me. And I’ve never once felt this way in my whole life. Tell me you feel the same, Aerith. Tell me this isn’t just me being delusional.”

He’s handsome. He’s big hearted. He’s perfect with all his imperfections. He’s hers. “It’s not,” she whispers barely, just enough for him to hear and only him. Because in this moment, nothing else matters other than him.

His other hand reaches up to cup her face, and she instinctively closes her eyes to savour his touch. It feels almost as if he’s enveloping her with a pleasant warmth, and she definitely doesn’t mind to let herself get lost in it.

“Look at me, Aerith,” his voice is as gentle as the breeze caressing her skin. And she forces herself to lift her lids to drink in his handsome features.

And as such he bends down to carefully capture her lips with his. She closes her eyes again, this time to savour him through her senses. He tastes like mint, with some hint of chocolatey sweetness that makes Aerith craves for more. So she leans further into him. And he wraps his arms around her petite waist, halfway hoisting her up to meet him. Her own arms wind around his neck snugly as if they belong. Neither know who starts to deepen the kiss, but they’re licking and sucking as if they have been thirsty of each other for years.

As air becomes a necessity, he lets her go with a soft pop. They’re both breathless by the time the kiss ended, but neither made a move to entangle themselves. Their breaths mix in invisible ripples as they stare into the other’s eyes.

“Be my girlfriend, Aerith,” he whispers into her lips. He’s not even sure where he gets the confidence. It’s just their first inadvertent date. And he’s not the type to date a girl after such a short amount of time. But somehow she lures him in and he’s never been more sure than now. He’s sure as hell not about to let her go.

His brows crease slightly when he notices her hesitation, briefly but it doesn’t escape his eyes. Not at this close proximity at least. Perhaps she starts to wonder if this fleeting thing between them could last. Maybe she even questions the nature of their background and relationship. But he doesn’t want to regret this. He can show her he can be a one woman kinda man.

“One chance, Aerith. That’s all I ask. I won’t hold it on you if you wanna dump me on my first screw up,” he almost begs, or perhaps he already does.

She pulls a hand to run her palms over his jaw, feeling the rough texture of his five o’clock shadow. “That’s too harsh. Such confidence you have.”

He smiles, eyes darting down to her moist swollen lips before planting another chaste kiss on her. “What kinda screw up you’re thinking?”

“I don’t know. Scattered laundry? Messy room? Forgotten anniversaries?” Even in half whisper, her voice sounds teasing.

He visibly blanches. “Okay, maybe not just one chance on those.”

“Hit a jackpot?” she chuckles softly, not bothering at all the fact that she’s still standing on tiptoes—still has one arm tightly around his neck, lips still hovering less than an inch from his, and definitely still in public with the rays of the setting sun fanning across them. She likes the feeling of him pressing against her. They fit like puzzle and she’s not ready to let go.

“I thought you’re worried I might cheat on you or something?”

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes dramatically, pulling slightly away from him to get back her footing. “You’re not capable of cheating.”

His brows raise. “Such confidence you have. I don’t even know should I be flattered or offended.” It still doesn’t go past him that for once, someone doesn’t regard him as a man whore. He doesn’t even know where that reputation comes from. He’s just a man, with desire.

She grins. “A man who cherishes kids, pregnant ladies and elderly people cannot really cheat. So yes, our relationship will have problems that are not about cheating.”

“I don’t cherish—“ he wants to deny but stopped when he catches her words in details. “Wait, our relationship? So is that a yes?”

This time, she pulls his lapels down a bit to place a soft kiss on the corner of his lips. She loves his spicy masculine scent. It’s addicting. “It is a yes.”


	2. I’ll search a thousand lifetimes for you

He holds on to his promise. Although, he isn’t kidding about needing hundreds of chances in house chores. But he tries. He tries hard. And what surprises her is the fact that he is fully aware that he forgets dates, so he set phone reminders on important dates daily for a week prior to them. Just in case he forgot, he says. He has a strange sense of responsibilities that makes him loved by his superiors and subordinates. He’s still a dork though. But he is strong, reliable and kind. Too kind for his own good that it bothers Aerith sometimes. He couldn’t, for the love of God, be selfish.

A year into their relationship is a ride of emotions. It’s even more so when she stops by his apartment after her nursing shift ends, planning to expedite his packing before travelling together to Costa del Sol to celebrate their first anniversary.

“Zack, you did not forget to keep the milk in the fridge again. It’s spoiled!”

“I swear I kept it in there after breakfast,” his voice rumbles through the phone she clutches on her ear.

“I’m in your apartment, Zack. And it’s out on the table and spoiled. How long did you leave it out here?” she presses reproachfully.

“Okay, maybe I forgot. I was in a rush. I’ll buy a new one on my way home later,” comes his quick unapologetic answer.

“Don’t bother. We’re heading off to Costa del Sol once you’re back from your work today. Just buy one once we’re back from vacation,” she tosses the small carton into the trash bin before walking straight into his bedroom. “I’ll pack for you. Anything in particular you want to bring with?”

“What? You don’t have to do that, Aerith, I’ll pack once I’m back. It wouldn’t take too long!”

The panic in his voice is so apparent that Aerith frowns into the receiver, but her hand smoothly pulls open his dresser anyway. And just like that, she is rained by an avalanche of dirty shirts and pants pooling around her feet. Oh. She sighs. That’s why he doesn’t want her to pack for him.

“Zack,” she doesn’t even mask the tiredness that is in her voice.

“Look, I cleaned up. I just didn’t have the chance to before I was called three days ago—“

“These are not cleaned since three days ago?” Aerith spats, eyes widened unbelievably.

“I thought I’d be back in time to wash them all. I needed to leave immediately for the national march, it’s not happening again.”

“Zack,” she cuts him off, more resigned this time. “This isn’t the first time you did this. And these aren’t one day worth laundry. You piled up probably for a week. I told you time and time again. It’s like you’re not even trying.”

She’s not being fair. She knows it the moment the words escape her lips. He tried. He still tries his best. In fact, the frequency that she has to clean up after him has reduced throughout the past year. But she’s tired and her mother is not really well so cleaning two houses while working as a nurse at work and at home have all becoming too taxing Aerith wishes they could have just stayed together instead to save her energy. But Zack never brings up anything about moving in. And what will happen to her mother if she moves in with Zack anyway? Too much is at stake. She’s not sure if she wants to risk it.

“Aerith, I’m sorry. I really am. Listen, you don’t have to do anything. I promise I will clean up when I reach home. And we’ll still have time to head off to Costa del Sol. Just go back and rest. I’ll come fetch you later,” his voice is soothing, maybe trying to make her feel better. She wonders how he knows she needs the rest. Or if it’s just his lucky guess, or guilty conscience for putting her through this. But it works to soften her heart. She always has a soft spot for him.

“Don’t bother. I’ll clean up and pack for you.”

“Aerith—“

“I’ll see you later,” she ends the call, taking a deep breath before mustering some extra energy to clean up the apartment. She still needs some time to stock up her own house and some other necessary arrangement before leaving an arthritis-ridden Elmyra behind for this weekend vacation.

* * *

She did his laundry, put away his dishes, mopped the floor, wiped some surfaces around and even took a shower. It’s almost six by the time she’s done and she throws herself onto his bed, pulling one pillow to her chest. She likes how the room and the bed smells like him. It quenches her longing and yearning for him between his absence for work. Dating a soldier is tough. Loving one this much is way tougher. She wishes she could hug and kiss him every day. She wants to make sure he eats well, takes good care of himself. She wants to be there when he’s stressed out, offers her physical closeness and comfort during those times he needs which none of his friends could give.

At least he spends a lot of quality time with her when he could. She mentally scolds herself. She wants Zack and no one else, soldier or not. And the last conversation with him was her scolding him for not cleaning up. Now that she’s situated, she starts to feel guilty about it. He doesn’t deserve that much scolding. That’s just her having a bad day. She wonders if she could get past her ego and apologise to him once he gets back. It’s almost six, he would be here any minute from now.

She breathes into his pillow, curls herself up as she waits. Perhaps she’ll set up her house on the way to Costa del Sol later. She’ll ask Zack to stop by for her to stock up and check on Elmyra for a few minutes before heading out of Midgar.

Her phone vibrates on the night stand just a few minutes later. And she saunters lazily to pick it up. Her screen flashes with Zack’s ID, which she saved as ‘Dorky Puppy’ because he can never sit still for more than ten minutes—even in his sleep. She loves his energy though. “Zack?”

“Hello,” it’s not Zack’s voice. “Hi, sorry, I’m Kunsel, Zack’s friend from the infantry. Uh, I’m sorry, I needed to use his phone to reach you.”

She frowns, something unsettling resides in her stomach, churning restlessly. “What happened?”

“Uh,” there’s hesitation in this Kunsel voice. “Zack kinda had an accident during the final stunt of the march. Our colonel Angeal Hewley just brought him to the hospital.”

She feels her world crumbling down. “No,” her knees buckle. The last time they talked she was cold to him. The last time they talked she cut him off. “Is he okay? Is he alive? Tell me he’ll come back safely. Please.”

“He hit his head and lost consciousness. I’m not sure if anything happens to his head but he’s a great strong captain. He’ll be fine.”

The confidence this Kunsel guy has for Zack is reassuring. But she worries nonetheless. He lost his consciousness after all. She hopes he doesn’t get intracranial bleed or anything like that. “Should I go to Belhelmel Square? Which hospital is he being sent to?”

“He’s in the army hospital. I’ll talk to them to let you in. Zack wouldn’t shut up about you after all. Even the stoic Cloud is pulled in. Says you’re an angel and all.”

Aerith smiles. That’s her Zack, alright. Always friendly. Always loved. She knew it’s impossible for him not to be loved. He probably doesn’t know it, but he’s more selfless than her, more considerate than her, more angelic than her in terms of their personality. He’s not perfect, but he’s more of an angel than she ever has been. The already overwhelming love in her heart blooms further at her thoughts, and she wants him more than ever. She’s selfish like that.

“Thanks, Kunsel. I’ll be there.”

* * *

She stops by Sector 5 on her way to the hospital. She initially wanted to check on Elmyra before heading off. But once she stocked the food for her mother, her wandering worried mind somehow brought her to the nearest church. It’s actually an abandoned church. Half of the floor is still covered in moss, seats and pillars all worn out, and there’s a patch of wild flowers growing up in the middle of it, nurtured by the two holes on the ceiling, which gives a little hue in the dark church from the starry sky. The church is almost running down like most of the slums in Midgar out of ageing. It wouldn’t surprise her if it has a hole or two.

At the front of the church altar lies a patch of yellow lilies, with a deep sharp dent into the cement as if it was long impaled by a huge sword. But there’s no sword. Someone had probably taken it for museums or something. After all, these stuff are dated more than 500 years back. But still the yellow lilies grips her heart in such a painful way. They’re the same species she grew in front of her house, the one that stole Zack’s attention at the end of their first date, before he suavely asked her to be his girlfriend.

It’s familiar. It’s perennial. Zack says.

Somehow, she feels something calling to her. It’s not the first time. She always feels different when she feels that. As if she’s more than what she thought. It’s the reason why she sometimes checks out Vintage Wings to see if they sell any materia. She wants a hold on one. She knows it’s calling to her. And now standing in the middle of the abandoned church, she feels it again. Her vision flashes white, ears ringing with clamour. An unexplainable fear grips her heart at the thought of Zack. As if he’s slipping away, as if she’s losing him. She groans.

Carefully, she kneels on the altar, caressing the lilies as if they are the ones calling to her. Because the voice seems loudest in here. “What is it that you want to tell me? Say it in words so I can understand. Is he in danger? Is there something I should know?”

Look at her being all crazy talking to flowers. Not that it’s her first time. She did that to the flowers in front of her house too. But strangely the noises quiet down once she asks. A frown weaves into her expression at the blatant ignore on her plea. She’s not sure if it’s a good sign or a bad sign. She waits for another five minutes and nothing comes out, and panic seems to gnaw at the edge of her heart.

“I really don’t have time for this. Zack is waiting,” she’s not getting any prophetic—if you can call it that—vision or voices anytime soon. She cannot concentrate with Zack lying in the hospital anyway. So she clasps her hands together to pray for Zack’s safety—the actual reason why she goes to a church—, hoping that he returns to her safe and sound before rushing out to the army hospital. Please let him live. Please let him safe. If fate wants to rip them apart, please take her instead.

* * *

He’s awake—thank God. He looks well, a few scratches here and there but his body is full with scattered old scars. Something she has to swallow about him being in such a rough job. Still doesn’t make her feel better to see added ones though.

There’s a beautiful athletic woman dressed so sophisticatedly in his room, talking so softly and so intimately to her Zack. Okay, maybe not so intimate but still. Aerith could tell they’re close. And the woman’s red headed, a rare breed. Something Aerith doesn’t have. And she’s jealous. She shouldn’t. But she does. Of course there are women in army, how does that never crosses her mind before. And he’s surrounded, and oh God loved, by these beautiful women. She fights hard not to squint at him, but she walks in, throws her arms around him, and gives his tempting lips a wet smooch.

Coward move, she knows.

He’s sitting in hospital bed, injured, and here she is, marking her territory in front of his colleague instead of checking his injuries. She notices how Zack’s eyes flit back to the red head before returning her kiss. He’s aware of the public display of affection. Interesting.

“Aerith—“

“You just gave me a death scare. I’m at least entitled to have my way with you,” she isn’t having it any other way.

His lips curve into the charming smile that had always won her over. “I’m fine, Aerith. And you’re entitled to have your way with me anytime you want, death scare or not.”

You hear that, red head? She smirks internally and that’s probably why she doesn’t feel so angelic around Zack. She’s selfish about him, way too much she’d trade her life for him.

Zack looks past her to the red head that has been looking a bit uncomfortable since she came in. “Aerith, this is my colleague in the Security Division, Cissnei. Cissnei, meet my girlfriend, Aerith.”

“The infamous Aerith. Tseng said you talked a lot about her,” Cissnei smiles—too charming smile—, as they shake hands to the introduction.

“Thanks for taking care of him,” Aerith says, finally being a bit more rational and civil. As long as they know he’s hers, she’s civil. “Is he fine?”

Zack groans. “I’m fine—“

“He had a concussion,” Cissnei ignores him.

A concussion. Thank God it’s not a bleed.

“But he had a lucid interval. He needs to stay in ward for us to correct all electrolytes and fluid balance to avoid brain oedema before we can discharge him,” Cissnei adds.

“She’s exaggerating,” Zack rolls his eyes.

Aerith ignores him this time. “His family are all in Gongaga. Can I stay here to take care of him instead?”

“I’ll arrange that for you then.”

“You can?” It takes her a while to notice that she knows what she’s saying when she explains Zack’s condition to her. She didn’t use layman term at all. “You’re his doctor?”

“Vincent is,” Cissnei shrugs. “But all army doctors and nurses are in my division so I can do that as their captain.” The lady winked at her before leaving the room to the two lovebirds.

She’s the captain in Security Division, the same rank as Zack’s, except that Zack is in Infantry Division. Do captains make a habit of visiting captains from other divisions, or is it just him? Aerith hates being jealous. She loves the friendly Zack, but she couldn’t help the jealousy she’s feeling inside at how other women look at him. Even though it’s pathetic because it’s really not Zack’s fault if another woman harbour any feelings for him.

“Get some rest, Aerith. You have bags under your eyes,” Zack’s voices brings her out of her thoughts.

“I’m not tired,” she takes in a deep breath, tucking her head comfortably in the crook of his neck as he wraps one arm around her waist. She hasn’t seen him for half a week, and she wants him as much as she can get.

“Lies,” he scolds her gently. “Your voice sounds tired even on the phone. I told you to rest. I can take care of my own mess, you know.”

She shakes her head, not lifting her head from him. “I want to clean up your mess. I want you to need me so you won’t leave me for another woman.”

His soft laugh rumbles through his chest at her response. “I’m never leaving you for another woman. I’m especially not leaving you to let another man have you. And I’m not leaving you cold and lonely wanting another man,” he pauses to place a soft kiss at the crown of her head. “I’m just concerned. I know you have a lot going on at home and at work.”

How can he be so attentive even after a head concussion he literally lost consciousness multiple times and still thinks of her as his priority? “You’re right. I’m tired. So yeah, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For lecturing you, for being so cold to you, for belittling your efforts in our relationship,” she mutters but makes sure he hears her loud and clear.

“It’s okay. I understand you’re tired. I’m sorry I’m not there often.”

“Just come back to me then I’ll be fine,” she tightens her hug on his strong waist.

“I’ll always come back to you, I promise.”

“I’ll be here.” Forever and always.

* * *

He never rests. He paces around the room, do squats, even pushups—literally anything other than rest. And Aerith feels frustrated because she’s not as strong to physically drag him into bed. She can seduce him into bed, of course, but that would defeat the purpose. And really, hospital rooms have thin, non-sound proof walls. Unless they don’t mind people listening into their nocturnal activities, any acts of pleasure would have to wait.

“Just one day, Zack. You’re 23 years old grown up man so just... Can’t you just rest, please? For me?” She musters her most convincing face, pleading and begging the way she knows he couldn’t resist.

It works, because he stops when he glances at her, and sighs before climbing back onto bed. “I told you I’m fine. All these resting with no action will just pulverise me before I can heal myself. Ever heard that early physiotherapy is instrumental in patient’s recovery?”

She rolls her eyes at his smart ass comment. “I’m a registered nurse, Zack. You don’t have to lecture me on early physiotherapy stuff. It’s only initiated when you’re totally fit to start. You just fell and had lucid interval. You’re literally at risk of having brain oedema.”

He slips his arms under his head, and even under his hospital gown, she could see the delicious flex of his biceps beneath the fabric. “I’m just—I feel guilty.”

“About what?”

“Missing our first anniversary celebration,” he pouts, and she’d be damned if she says he doesn’t look cute like that. “I made sure I didn’t miss the reminder to plan the trip. It’s my long time dream to see you in two piece bikini.”

Huh. The conversation goes from sentimental to perverted real quick.

“Zack, you saw me naked multiple times,” she squints.

“Not the same.”

She breathes. “Fine. You rest, and then I’ll put on my two piece bikini for you at home. I’ll even have them on during sex like we can role play or something.”

He looks at her. “You’re okay with missing the trip?”

Now he’s concerned about her. “I just want you back.”

“You never lost me, Aerith.”

She weaves her fingers together on her lap, nicking her nails absentmindedly as she speaks. “The disturbing voice is there again on my way here,” she drawls. “I stopped by a run down church to pray for you, and the voice just blasted in my ears. I’m scared. I feel like I’ve lost you. As if sometime before in our past life, we’ve defied fate and failed. The pain is excruciating.”

“Aerith,” his hand reaches out to hers, squeezing just enough for comfort, to tell her he’s here. He’ll always be here. “Fate can separate us away for a thousand lifetimes and I’ll always find my way to you. That is if you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have you. I’ll always have you and only you,” she almost sobs, because the thought of losing him a thousand times is too painful to bear it almost breaks her. “Just come back to me no matter what.”

“I will, I promise,” he pulls her up onto the bed, tucking her in his arms for a warm cuddle she misses too much in his absence. “Tell you what, why don’t we go somewhere else for that voice you always heard. Since Vintage Wings never really had any materia. We can go to the Temple of the Ancient, or the Ancient Forest, or the Forgotten City, or anywhere really. Even Mideel or Nibleheim are historical enough for us to go through if you want. Maybe once I’m discharged and we can have a long vacation.”

“That sounds really romantic,” Aerith murmured into his neck. “I’d like that. And to do that, you have to rest and recover well.”

“That’s a cinch. I’ll be good in no time,” his voice is too chirpy for midnight time. And Aerith is too eager for him to sleep and rest. Maybe she can sleep with him as encouragement. Or maybe she needs the rest herself as well. They have a lot of adventure ahead from what he has planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m having way too much fun playing with Aerith’s “he must have gone off with another woman” pretence in OG. Also, I feel like if Aerith gets jealous she would be really untoward with her man like how she usually did with Cloud in OG, less in Remake but she’s there still. And I think Zack would be a little embarrassed but will indulge in her whims anyway. They’re cute that way lol.


End file.
